


Dirty Business

by Rheynin



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheynin/pseuds/Rheynin
Summary: Businessman Dutch has some deals to close- and its up to you to make sure it ends in his favor.
Relationships: Dutch van der Linde/Reader, Dutch van der Linde/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Dirty Business

**Author's Note:**

> (If there’s enough interest, I may turn this into a series.)

9:40 am

You examined your reflection carefully, looking for the slightest flaw. If you weren’t impeccable, if you were even a hint away from perfection, you’d hear about it. Dutch expected nothing but the best, and you weren’t about to disappoint him. Not when you got so much out of the deal.  
Then the man himself strode into the room, his stark white shirt cuffed to the elbows and unbuttoned to the edge of his vest. He leaned against the wall, lighting a cigar as he watched you. Your eyes met his in the reflection, and he blew a stream of smoke towards you. Raising your eyebrows, you twisted the corner of your mouth into a sly smirk.  
“You know that cigar smoke disagrees with me.”  
He took another deep pull as he crossed the room towards you, his eyes dark. One hand cupped your hip as you turned to face him, playful smile still twitching across your lips. He lowered his cigar, blowing the smoke directly in your face.  
“And you know I don’t give a damn.”  
He took your hand, twirling you around so he could have a good look at you. The dress was one of his favorites, mainly because it was so short, but also because it’s empire waist and cream chiffon fabric was a divine combination of sexy and innocent. Paired with nice, soft makeup and your doe eyes shining, you were the perfect distraction. His associates were never able to take their eyes off of you, especially once Dutch started playing.  
“How do I look?”  
“Are you wearing them?”  
You slowly lifted the hem of your dress, revealing the pair of panties he’d brought you this morning. They were pure silk, lightweight and nearly translucent, with only a small ruffle around each leg and at the waistband. They were nearly the exact same shade as your skin, and, knowing Dutch, were also incredibly expensive.  
He stepped towards you, gripping the back of your head and pressing his mouth hard on yours. While his other hand firmly gripped your ass, his tongue thrust hungrily into your mouth, searching. You leaned back, wrapping your arms around his neck as you surrendered yourself to him, moans harsh against his mouth. When he finally let you come up for air, he gripped your chin with his fingertips.  
“Your lipstick’s smudged.”  
After taking care of it, you followed him downstairs and into his office to get ready for the coming meeting. His secretary had taken care of most things already. A bowl of fresh orchids sat on his desk, just beside several of his favorite expensive cigars. His prized gold lighter, engraved with your initials, was placed beside a dark silk handkerchief, and a bottle of liqueur was to the front.  
He settled himself in the velvet chair, taking a deep breath. You stood behind him, your hand on his shoulder, as you knew he wanted, and were rewarded with his hand placed over yours. A small smile twitched at the corner of your lip, and he pressed the golden buzzer at his fingertip. Moments later, two large, bald men with dark eyes entered, seating themselves across from him with a menacing glare. Dutch tented his fingers and began to talk.  
This was your time to shine, and you reveled in it. Carefully, you sat on the arm of Dutch’s chair, lifting one leg just enough to display a flash of your underwear. The man on the left coughed lightly, eyes trailing down your legs. Dutch’s large hand grabbed the side of your thigh, his gold rings glinting in the light as he stroked up and down. Despite the venom in their words, both men now had their eyes glued to your legs as Dutch’s hand moved ever upward, raising the hem of your dress. He’d nearly reached the edge of your panties when he suddenly stopped, patting your leg.  
“Sweetheart, would you get us a couple of glasses? I’m sure these gentlemen would like a drink.”  
You nodded, glancing over your shoulder as you walked to the cabinet. Just as you suspected, the men were far more focused on you than Dutch. As you reached the cabinet, you paused, arching your back in a faux stretch. Your breasts pressed firmly against the thin fabric, looking for all the world as if they’d burst out at any moment. One of the men swallowed hard as you bent over, knowing damn well they were getting a good look at your panties.  
When you returned with the glasses, you placed them on the table and Dutch took your hand, leading you to sit in his lap. Carefully, biting your lip, you poured the drinks, pushing them toward the men with a sultry look. With a light snarl, Dutch pulled you back into his lap, his hand against the inside of your thigh. Innocently, you leaned against his chest, draping your arm around his neck. He began talking, assuring the men he had everything under control, they’d be well compensated. They needed faith, a sense of pride.  
As he talked, his hand slid up your thigh, until his fingers were gently stroking against you through the thin silk. Warmth grew between your legs, and you spread them slightly, watching as the men across the desk glanced between themselves, then at Dutch. Spurred on, he pressed against you harder, until it was getting hard to control your breathing. You were wet, soaking through the fabric, and still he caressed you, never so much as pausing his speech.  
Wrapping both arms around him, you buried your face in his neck. Your soft sighs of pleasure at his touch were barely audible, but you knew there was no mistaking what was going on. His hand between your legs, the movement of his arm, your heaving chest? He had you, he owned you, anywhere, any time. Just like everything else he wanted.  
It took no time at all for the men to agree to Dutch’s terms, unmistakable bulges at the front of their pants as they rushed out. They’d head home to fuck their wives or girlfriends, or maybe stop by a strip club or pick up a whore, all the while thinking of the curve of your ass and the pretty pink flush of your cheeks. They wouldn’t realize what a fool he’d made of them until it was too late.  
A smile swept across your face as his hand slipped back down your thigh, grabbing your waist and sitting you on the desk in front of him. You spread your legs around his, knowing he’d want to take a good look at his work. Sure enough, he shoved his hands beneath your dress, pushing it to your waist as he pulled you to the edge of his desk. He gripped your knees, lifting them and spreading them further as you leaned back on your elbows.  
His eyes were full of fire and lust, his breathing heavy as his fingers traced over the damp fabric, teasing you closer to the orgasm he still hadn’t given you. He leaned forward, murmuring praise against your thighs as he buried his face between your legs. His tongue traced lightly against the fabric as he inhaled deeply, his thumbs working against the inside of your thighs. He was utterly in heaven, the smell of your musk filling his awareness.  
Then, suddenly, he drew away. He glanced at the clock, and pushed himself between your legs, pressing his hard length against you. You were trapped beneath his body as he leaned to whisper in your ear.  
“Such a dirty little slut for me, soaking those new panties. You did so good. Now . . ,” he breathed against your neck, “what do I do to reward you?”  
He stood, admiring you as you lay spread before him. A wicked grin crossed his face, and he put his hands on your knees, gently slipping them upward, until he reached your waistband. His fingers hooked under it, then pulled them off to leave you bare before him.  
“Now,” he said as he sat back down, tucking your underwear in his pocket, “get back here on my lap. We’ve got another meeting.”


End file.
